


Coffee Stained

by irish_gold



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Abuse, Angst, M/M, Physical Abuse, Rape, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-11-24 04:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/630271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irish_gold/pseuds/irish_gold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn’s hands curled around the smaller boys waist. He pulled him closer and whispered gently into his ears. The smaller boy’s eyes closed and tears welled up. As Zayn whispered comforting words all they could think about was, why? Why hadn’t it been him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> (based off of my prologue from another one of my stories, both have the same prologue but different characters. Chapters will not be the same.)  
> enjoy! Xx

He walked slowly home, rain fell silently on his face causing him to shiver. The rain fell and thunder rolled, it was days like this he wished all would end. Blood dripped from his nose.

His plump face was filled with cuts and bruises, his clothes were battered. The other boys laughed at him, they through small pebbles at him. He kept walking, ignoring them.

They all gathered around him, blocking his exit. He could fight back. But there was no point, four against one? Girls and boys yelled 'Fight!' that was the last thing he wanted.

His blue eyes squeezed shut, he was ready. They punched him in the face, his nose start bleeding more. They punched him in the gut.

He didn't deserve this! They laughed as he fell to the floor; they called him names and kicked him. He didn't dare get up, he let them hit him, and he let them call him names for he knew that he was a coward, a useless space. Tears welled up in his blue eyes and blood fell out of his mouth and nose.

As the rain fell harder and harder every boy and girl left no one bothering to help him. He laid there on the cement ground eyes closed bruises, cuts, and blood on his face. Silent tears ran down his dirty filled face leaving a trail in its place.

* * *

He felt the pain surge through his body, he felt his body protest in pain, yet he still laid there. His small body was wet with rain and tears, blood and bruises.

 _Get up!_   _Get up, you weak useless human being!_  He groaned as he tried to get up. Yet he managed to get his plump body of the floor. He limped his way around the roads, the rain fell harder every step of the way.

The streets in Mullingar were empty except for those who were stuck on the storm, some held their jumper close, others held there brolly, but Niall didn't have either.

His clothes were soaked wet; a few people stared as he walked past them but none of them helped him. His body relaxed a little as he saw the small house near by nearby.

He wanted to run towards it but his body told him no. His thoughts clouded over him, what was his mother going to say?

What would she  _do_  to him? He ignored his thoughts and ignored the pain that pushed through his body.

Just a few more steps and he would be there, right?

His glassy eyes did not allow him to see, his small chubby fist wiped tears that were bound to fall.

Cars passed and sprayed water on him; he wanted to yell in pain as a simple little pebble fell on him. Did he deserve all of this pain?

Niall wanted all this pain to stop, he wanted the bullying to stop, but life never gave him what he wanted.

He couldn't hold the tears anymore; big thick tears ran down his face. His small fragile hands could not keep up with the silent but fast-moving tears.

He let out a quiet sob he wanted to get to his house soon but the street seemed endlessly.

His head pounded, his body shivered as a gust of wind blew through him. His blond curls were sticking to his face, one more step Niall.

His head turned to face his door, what will happen?

Will his mother be home? Will it be his dad that opens the door? He unlocked the door and walked inside, the room was lit by a lamp that stood close to the wall.

The flat was silent and he prayed that no one was here.

"Niall James Horan! Where the hell have you been?" He went to school to face the bully's but once he got home he came to the biggest bully of them all. His own mum.

He froze, his head went up and his eyes widen. His mum stood right in front of him eyes full of anger and rage. His father was right behind her but he wasn't yelling at him.

"I- I'm sorry Mum, the boys at school- " His mother cut him off by a slap to his face.

His face stung, his chubby hand went to his face. He looked down in shame and let his mother continue her rant.

He said the only thing he could ever say. "I'm sorry mummy." His voice sounded weak and fragile but that was enough to make his mother hit him again.

"You're full of excuses! Why aren't you a real man like your brother?" His mother asked him as she delivered another blow to his face.

Her words stung more than the slap, his blue eyes welled up with tears.

"That's enough Maura!" His father yelled and held onto his wife's wrist.

"Fine!" She sneered and pulled her wrist out of her husband's grasp, she looked at her youngest son and pointed to the stairs that led to his room.

"Go to your bed I don't want to see your face! You'll wake up earlier tomorrow and work in the bakery." She said and looked away; the little boy only nodded his head and walked towards the stairs.

* * *

Mums were supposed to care for their child not hit them when they get hurt or bullied at school.

So why was his mummy different? Why did his mum hit him when he gets bullied at school?

Why was he different?

He laid on his bed, his body tense and facing the window. The darkness in Mullingar was his comfort.

He heard his father and mother yelling at each other, they were fighting because of Niall. It was all Niall's fault wasn't it?

"He is only nine years old maura! And he's getting bullied at school!" His father yelled.

"Well good for him! Maybe those kids will make him into a man!"

"Don't you dare say that he isn't a man! Do you think hitting him is the answer?! Because it isn't! Maura he is our son as is only nine years old!"

"He is getting bullied at school; he comes home with bruises and black eyes. And worst of all maura is that you don't even care, all you do is complain that he isn't a man. Maura show him that you love him! Act like a real mum to him! Don't push him away." His father said, Niall's crystal blue eyes were tearing. His body complained of the pain but he ignored it.

He waited for his mother to argue back but instead only silence answered.

His mother didn't care for him, no one does.

His father knocked on his bedroom door but let himself in when Niall didn't respond.

"Niall, son." It was his father, it pained Niall to move but he did biting his lip from letting a groan escape him.

"Are you hurt?" His father asked him, Niall nodded his head slowly.

His father told him to sit up; Niall listened knowing that his father would only do him good. "Where did they hurt you?" He asked him, Niall pointed to the parts that hurt him the most.

His father did the best to heal the bruises and cuts. When he finished he kissed his sons forehead and bid him a goodnight.

"I love you Niall." That was all Niall wanted to hear, he wanted someone to love him.

He wanted a better mum; he wanted everyone at school to stop bullying him most of all he wanted someone to love him, for real.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe-just maybe he isn't alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 1! Enjoy! Xx

_The room was dark only illuminated by a few lamps that were I the corners, Niall's eyes were filled with sadness, but he didn't dare look away from his father._

_His brother sat next to him, he held his hand but didn't look at him. His father lay dead in front of them, they were at his funeral._

" _Now a few words from his youngest son, Niall." Niall got up at the sound of his name and walked to the front of the funeral home._

_He cleared his throat. Once, twice, then finally he opened his mouth to talk but all that came out was a sob, he wouldn't cry!_

_He couldn't cry! His father wouldn't want him to be broken._

" _My father was a great man. He never had a frown on his face. He always managed to make someone smile. He was my hero, he showed me that not everything in life will be fair, but when those hard times came we should always have a smile on our face." Niall said gently, his eyes scanned the room._

" _My father passed away on June 2nd of this year. A few years back he was diagnosed with lung Cancer, and he fought through it. The days were he couldn't stand up anymore were the times I suffered with him. I would stay in the hospital room with him and I would talk to him for hours."_

" _My father always managed to keep a smile on his face when everyone couldn't. He was a father, a son, a brother, a husband, and a friend to so many people. Today my father lay's before us; today is the day my father will find peace. And wherever you are father, just know that I love you. And for me you are the greatest father in the world, and everyone in this room will never forget you. Goodbye father." Niall finished his speech and blew one last kiss to his father._

_His eyes wandered to his mother. She sat with an emotionless face, but Niall saw through it, she was not sad, she was not mourning the death of her husband, and she was celebrating his death! She did not care for her husband, Niall looked away anger ran through him._

 

 

* * *

Life goes on, so why couldn't he move on? It's been three years since the death of his father yet he can't find a way to go on, but why?

His hands curl around the small glass full of alcohol. He sat on a stool in the nearest pub. He took a sip of the liquid and let it burn him in the inside.

His hands shook as he picked up the glass and took another long sip. He slammed the now empty glass on the counter and asked for more.

It didn't sound right, not at all. The words came out slurred and it sounded as if he were making up words.

All Niall wanted now was to forget. But he knew that forgetting was something he would never experience.

Why was it hard for him to forget? Didn't they say a few drinks would help to forget him? So why did he still remember?

"Lad you need to stop drinking." The bartender's words cut through Niall's thoughts. His shaky hands pressed harder on the empty glass.

"What does it matter if I drink or not?" His words came out slurred but it was easier to understand.

"You're eighteen years old; you still have a whole life ahead of you." The bartender said to Niall, he put his head down knowing he wouldn't be able to look at the bartender.

"I died when my father died." Niall said he was tired of it all, he didn't want to have this conversation anymore.

It's been three years since his father died, three years since he changed.

"Your father wouldn't want to see you at a pub every single night."

"This time tomorrow I will be on a plane to England." Niall said gently trying to change the subject, he was telling the truth. He would be on a plane and going to England.

"Then you have to change, Niall! Once you get to England you won't be able to be as you are now!" The bartender said. Why did he care so much? Why did he care so much for Niall when no one else did?

"Why do you care?"

"Because you are our future, Niall! You've been through so much, being bullied and abused by your mother, you deserve happiness!"

 

 

* * *

**Bradford, England**

_It wasn't the dark clouds that warned him._

_It wasn't the cry of his mother._

_It wasn't the sound of sirens._

_It was the sound of his father's last words. "I Love you."_

_His hands trembled in the dark and cold night. The heat that radiated from the building that slowly burnt down was nothing compared to the cold night._

" _NOOOO!" His mother yelled from behind. Zayn didn't care, all he cared or was that his father was stuck in that building- in that bloody building!_

_He wanted to run to his arm, he wanted him to come out of that building safe and sound._

_But he knew that would never happen._

_Why did he feel all sad? He knew that this could have happened at any time. His father could have died so many times before, he was a firefighter._

_So why did it hurt?_

_Why did it hurt to say goodbye?_

" _Malik! Malik! Do you hear me?! Malik do you hear me?!" The captain of the firefighters yelled into the walkie-talkie._

" _I-I can't do it chief- " His father's voice was cut off with the sound of the chief yelling._

" _Don't say that Malik! We do not give up! I'll send in men to go save you!" The chief yelled into the walkie-talkie._

" _Don't waste men, chief. P-please tell my wife I love her. T-tell my son Z-Zayn that I'll always be with him. Tell them all that I love them."_

_Zayn ran to the chief and took his walkie-talkie._

" _Daddy?! Daddy please don't give up!" Eleven-year old Zayn yelled into the device._

" _Zayn. I-I love you son, tell Safaa, Wahliya, and Doniya I love her. Tell your mother I love her too!" That was the last thing he heard of his father's voice._

" _Daddy!? Daddy?!" Tears welled up in her eyes._

_The chief took the walkie-talkie from his small and gentle hands and started yelling stuff into it but Zayn didn't hear because he started running._

_Running._

_Running._

_Running._

" _Kid, come back!" He didn't listen. All that went through his mind was 'daddy, I'm coming for you! I'm going with you, to the end' he ran, he was so close!_

_He could feel the intense heat!_

' _I'm coming Daddy!'_

_He never was able to be with him in the end. "I lost one Malik in that fire, I'm not losing another." The Chief said as he pulled Zayn into his arms and ran far away from the fire._

_Young Zayn yelled and kicked. He wanted to be with his dad! He deserved to be with his dad!_

" _Stop! Daddy isn't that way! Go back! I want to be with my daddy!" His words cut through the cold night._

" _You ain't going anywhere. I promised your dad I'll keep you and your sisters and mother safe. And I plan on keeping that promise." The chief said in his southern accent._

His eyes opened and took in the dark room.

No smoke.

No fire.

No cries.

No father.

Zayn sat up and looked around, the other side of the bed was empty his hands were shaking and his body was full of sweat.

His throat was dry from all the screaming he had down. Zayn got out of bed and went straight to the small bathroom.

He washed his sweaty face. His hands still shook with fear. What fear did he have exactly?

 

 

* * *

His worn out hands gently fixed his hair into a quiff. He could barely see his reflection in the dark room.

It was early, 5:15am early. He heard silent footsteps coming from the back of the room and his eyes snapped to the sound of the footsteps. It was his youngest sister.

He felt a little disappointment run through him, what was he expecting? His Mother? His Father?

"Zayn…" His little sister started but trailed off.

"Nightmare?" Safaa  nodded her head.

Zayn walked to his sister and hugged her. "Will you sing for me?" Safaa asked her older brother.

They looked much alike. Zayn had jet black hair, hazel eyes, and olive skin tone. Whilst Safaa looked just like him.

Zayn followed his sister into the small bedroom and tucked Safaa into bed.

 _"Lavender’s blue, dilly dilly, lavender’s green,_  
 _When I am king, dilly, dilly, you shall be queen._  
 _Who told you so, dilly, dilly, who told you so?_  
 _‘Twas my own heart, dilly, dilly that told me so._ " Zayn sang with a soothing voice.

The lullaby brought back memories.

Good.

Bad.

So on.

 _"Call up your men, dilly, dilly, set them to work_    
 _Some to the plow, dilly, dilly, some to the fork,_    
 _Some to make hay, dilly, dilly, some to cut corn,_    
 _While you and I, dilly, dilly, keep ourselves warm._

 _Lavender’s green, dilly, dilly, lavender’s blue,_    
 _If you love me, dilly, dilly, I will love you._    
 _Let the birds sing, dilly, dilly, and the lambs play;_    
 _We shall be safe, dilly, dilly, out of harm’s way._

 _I love to dance, dilly, dilly, I love to sing;_  
 _When I am queen, dilly, dilly, you’ll be my king._  
 _Who told me so, dilly, dilly, who told me so?_  
 _I told myself, dilly, dilly, I told me so."_ Zaynsang his sister to sleep.

He kissed his sister's forehead and then left.

 

 

* * *

Zayn walked into the university his hands on his coat pockets.

He walked towards the main desk. He was surprised to see someone else sitting on the chairs on the other side of the room.

It was a guy. He was blonde, and fit. Very  _fit_. His head was in his hands and his knee was bouncing up and down.

He hated staying still, Zayn walked to the woman at the front desk.

"Excuse me I'm here to pick up my timetable." Zayn said loud enough for the desk woman to hear her.

The woman ignored Zayn and kept typing something on the computer.

" _Excuse_ me; I said I'm here to pick up my timetable." Yet again the woman ignored him. Zayn rolled his eyes and was ready to scream at her but someone else talked.

"He wants his schedule, can you give it to him." Said the blonde boy, he had a thick Irish accent, Zayn turned to look at him.

He had the brightest blue eyes Zayn had ever seen, he was slightly pale but he was lean and muscular, and shorter than Zayn.

"Alright just a minute." The woman said.

"Thanks." Boy said to the woman but never took his eyes off the hazel eyed boy.

Zayn looked away and blushed. Having been caught staring at the handsome blue-eyed Irish boy.

"Thank you." He said quietly to him then turned back to the woman.

"You’re majoring in English lit? Correct?" The woman asked Zayn.

"Yeah." Zayn said quickly.

The woman passed Zayn a piece of paper that showed him his classes.

Zayn didn't bother thanking the woman. He turned around only to bump into the guy.

"Sorry." He said before he moved out of his away and let him walk out of the building without another word.

 

 

* * *

Zayn walked through the dark cold streets, rain fell from the sky and thunder roared. There was no one insight instead of it scaring Zayn he kind of felt safer.

The sound of sirens brought him out of his thoughts and made him jump slightly. He had never gotten used to the sounds of sirens.

Before the  _accident_  Zayn didn't really put much attention to the sounds but now, after seven years of not having his father with him, the sounds were what haunted him.

They mocked him. They yelled out words.

'Hate' 'Useless'

So many words and so little meanings.

He was frozen in the spot.

His hands and legs were frozen.

Lights flashed before him.

Sounds of warnings for him to move engulfed him.

Why did he not Move!

This was it. He would finally be with his dad again!

What about Safaa and Wahliya?

It didn't matter; it wasn't like anyone ever loved him.

His mother didn't even talk!

He would finally be with his dad!

' _I'm coming Dad'_  he thought.

The car was so close yet so far away.

"Hey!" He was pushed out-of-the-way by someone and they both landed on the ground.

"Are you alright?" The voice sounded familiar.

His hazel eyes traveled to the sound of the voice. It was that guy from the university earlier. He wanted to yell at him. He wanted to punch him!

Why had he saved him? The blonde boy got off of him and helped him up; Zayn looked away from him and frowned.

Someone always tried to stop him, just when he got so close to finally being with his father someone always had to 'save' him. But, why? Didn't they understand that he hated waking up from nightmares, that he dreaded going to sleep. Didn't they understand that he wanted to be with his dad?

Was it too hard for them to understand that he didn't want to live anymore?

"Are you alright?" The boy asked him again, his voice was filled with concern and worry.

"I'm fine." he said coldly and dared himself to look at him. He honestly did look a little worried, but what did he care?

He barely even knew him! Why did he save him!? Why didn't he just let him die?

"Are you sure?" He asked him.

"Why would you even care?" he spat at him coldly.

"Look I'm just trying to be nice to you! It's not my damn fault you decided to stand in front of a street, and almost get yourself killed." He told him his voice rising with anger.

"So why did you save me?" He yelled at him, his eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly.

"Are you seriously asking me why I saved you?! You know most people would be grateful that they were still alive! Where are your parents anyways?" He told him his hands turned to fist.

"They're dead." He said simply, he wasn't lying. Her parents were dead, well his dad was his mum was still alive but it seemed like she was dead.

"I'm sorry." He said his voice was softer this time his hands un-clenched and his blue eyes were not angry anymore.

"Sure you are." he said with venom, he pushed past him and started walking away tears threatening to fall at any moment.

"I-I mean it, I know how you feel. My father passed away years ago." He said his Irish accent clear as daylight.

That single sentence made Zayn shiver. Did he feel hope when he heard those few words come out of his mouth?

No.

Did Zayn feel a little happy inside that maybe- just maybe someone would be able to understand her pain?

No.

"You don't know." Was all Zayn could muster.

"I know how you feel. I know how it is to wake up every day and want to just die; I know how you feel when you dread going to sleep, afraid that the nightmares might win this time. I know." He said quietly.

How did this boy know how he felt?

Was he not alone?

"And I know how it feels like… to be alone." He said and Zayn stopped walking. This stranger had just said his feelings out loud; this stranger had described what he felt since he was eleven.

The boy stopped when he stopped and turned to face him. His eyes held no lie, his face hid no emotions.

"Back in Mullingar I was bullied because I was different from the rest. When I turned fifteen a few weeks later my father passed away. I've always felt alone." The blonde bloke said truthfully.

His words shocked him, not only was he confessing to him his whole life but he was saying it as if they were discussing the weather.

Zayn didn't say anything back, what was he supposed to say?

 _I'm sorry_? No, that would sound stupid.

"By the way my name is Niall Horan." The Irish boy said before he turned around and left with his hands in his pockets, leaving behind a shocked Zayn.

Niall Horan.

What an interesting name.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! Leave kudos and comments please! Xx


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was weird to know that he wasn't the only one to have those thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for taking long with this update and I am so sorry for making you read this horrid chapter!  
> But before you read I like to thank you all! I've got a massive amount of hits and kudos! It's amazing that many of you actually like this story!  
> Anyways enjoy! Xx

He didn't want to think about it.

More importantly He didn't want to admit that his own thoughts had been said out loud by a complete stranger. Yet he still found himself wanting- no needing those thoughts to come to life.

Why did he choose to ignore the boy's words?

Had he not just spoken his thoughts and feelings out loud?

He shook his head to rid those thoughts and instead tried to focus on walking.

Right. Left

Right. Left

Right. Left.

 _Silence is threatening to take me in, wasn't it?_ That was all that ran through his mind. Silence was his only home, and it was also a threat.

His hand extended and opened the door. Cool air hit his face as he walked into the Venue. Shops and stands littered the big halls. He wasn't shocked at all to see many people opening their shops or fixing their stands.

The venue was quiet, only the sound of footsteps and employees opening and closing doors echoed through it. His hands were tight around his worn out satchel.

Ugh, why did he bring it anyways?

When he finally got to the small bookstore his hand loosened its grip. He was ready to open the store when a voice boomed from the store across from the bookstore.

"Zayn!" He turned around and saw Liam walking towards him. Liam was a quiet boy, always to shy to speak up and to scared to say anything at all. 

He had dark hair and brown eyes, he was nice lad.

"Hey Zayn, um…Harry and I are going out for lunch in our breaks do you want to come with us?" Liam asked him, Zayn was shocked.

Of course they were all friends but they knew Zayn hated taking breaks. So why did they think it would change today?

"If you're worried you won't make it in time, you will…" Liam trailed off as he saw zayn smile a little.

"Ok, I'll go with you guys." Zayn said silently. He had surprised both Liam and himself.

"Really? I mean ok! We'll meet up here at 13:10 ok?" zayn just nodded his head.

"See you later Zayn." Liam said before he walked away, Zayn let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in; he faced the glass doors of the small bookstore and willed himself to open them. But he didn't.

He sighed again and opened the doors; the small and eerie bookstore was quiet and dark.

He wasn't afraid of it, more like afraid  _for_ it. He walked to the switch and watched as the bookstore lit up, this wasn't the greatest jobs in the world, heck if he could quit this job he would, but he couldn't.

He walked to behind the counter and sat on the little stool.

The only thing he really loved about this place was the peace and quiet, and the smell of new books and new prints.

No matter how much he hated this job he was grateful for it.

His hazel eyes wandered around the bookstore until his eyes landed on a bookshelf that said ' _Fiction & Mystery' _then the other shelf beside it said ' _Romance & Poetry' _he looked at his watch and sighed once again.

His eyes went back to the ' _Romance & Poetry' _shelf again; he had more than enough time to read something before anyone would come into the store.

He got up from the stool and walked towards the small shelf ' _Romance & Poetry'_ and looked through the endless assortments of books, but only a few stood out.

It was the Emily Dickinson ones and the Allan Edgar Poe poems that stood out for him.

He never really liked poems or books but these Poets were something different. He remembered the nights he was tucked in bed and his father would read poems to him by Emily Dickinson and Edgar Allan Poe.

He took a book by Emily Dickinson and a book by Edgar Allan Poe.

Soon enough he found himself lost in the words and poems by these poets and found himself wanting to be safely hidden behind his father's arms.

* * *

Many people entered the store and looked at books some actually bought something, and every time he could he would go and get another book by her two favorite writers.

He was transfixed in a poem by Emily Dickinson when Liam, Harry, and Louis had arrived at the bookstore at exactly 13:10.

"Hey Zayn, you ready to go?" Liam asked him with a small smile on his face.

Zayn wanted to cancel on them but he knew it was too late and rude to do that, so instead he nodded his head and closed the book he was reading and put it back in its shelf.

"Hey Sandy I'm taking my break now! Cover for me, alright!?" He said to the brunette lad that stood behind the counter.

"Yeah, ok. Have fun Zayn!" Josh yelled back and waved goodbye, Zayn followed Liam and the rest out of the venue and into the parking lot.

"So where are we going to eat?" Liam asked Harry, he shrugged and unlocked his car.

"Let's go to the Chinese Restaurant by the bowling alley." Liam suggested.

"No, I hate that place. Let's go to Pizzeria across from the park!" Josh said.

They all got into the car and sat quietly as Harry started the car. "I really don't care where we go as long as there is food." Harry said his hands placed gently on the wheel.

"Fine then, let's let Zayn decide." Liam said, two heads turned to face him and another pair of eyes looked at him through the mirror.

"I kind of want to go to the Pizzeria." Zayn said in a strong voice. Josh smirked and Liam groaned.

"Haha! I won!" Josh said and put his hands up in victory. Harry chuckled but kept driving.

* * *

"All I'm saying is that I deserve to be manager not that fat-guy-who-has-no-life!" Harry said, Zayn laughed at him and took a bite of his pizza.

"Oh shut up Harry! You sound like a five-year old!" Josh said. Harry stuck his tongue out at him and made a face.

Liam burst out laughing and almost ran into a tree. They all burst out laughing and Liam turned a shade of red causing the other to laugh some more. They walked through the small park and laughed as Harry attempted to make a joke, but failed horribly.

They walked towards the bottom of the bridge and stopped when they saw someone sitting on the ground sketch pad in hand.

He sat with his legs close to his chest and his sketch book between. Zayn instantly recognized him. Niall Horan.

Niall looked up when he heard footsteps but then looked back down and continued drawing. He wore a black jumper he looked dark and mysterious.

Josh went and sat on the bench the rest following him.

"So…" Josh said awkwardly, they all just sat there looking around. Niall chuckled and looked up from his drawing, he had a small smile.

"The name's Niall Horan." He said to them realizing that someone needed to break the silence.

"Ah so you're an Irish boy. My namesJosh Devine, this is LIam Payne, that's Harry Styles, and that's Zayn Malik." Louis said pointing to each boy as he said their names. Niall seemed to recognize Zayn, though he never knew his name.

 _'Zayn. Suits him, I guess'_  Niall thought.

"Hi." Liam said to Niall he smiled and nodded to him.

"Which part of Ireland are you from?" He asked him Niall abandoned his pencil and looked at them.

"Mullingar. Its a small town in County Westmeath in Ireland ." He said, Liam smiled.

"Really? My great-grandfather moved to the city of Cork." He told him.

Liam and Niall seemed to get along easily, while Zayn just sat there staring at everything else but him.

"I didn't know you were from Ireland!" Harry said surprised.

"I'm not from there, my great-grandfather moved their a few years before I was born." Liam told him.

"Idiot." Josh muttered to Harry chose to ignore him. Instead he seemed to take in what Liam was saying.

"Don't think to hard Haz, you'll only end up hurting yourself." Josh told him and patted his head.

"So what are you drawing" He asked Niall, he seemed to tense up a bit, but he showed them the drawing.

It was more of a sketch than a drawing but amazing nonetheless.

It was a picture of a landscape. But that wasn't what caught their attentions it was the wolves.

No they weren't wolves, a wolf wouldn't have a face the shape of a human, nor would it have backs that were like a human.

Zayn was horrified of the drawing! It was so detailed that it felt like you were actually there! But yet the drawing was beautiful!

"Whoa! NIall you have a real talent!" Joss said as he held the sketchbook in his hands. Niall just shrugged and fiddled with his fingers.

Zayn wasn't really focused on the drawing he was more focused on the artist. The guy seemed to hold many talents apart from 'saving' Zayn's life and being able to understand how he felt.

"You really… God Niall this is amazing!" Harry said he touched the drawing and looked at it with focused eyes.

"Can you draw other stuff?" Harry asked him not bothering to take his eyes off of the book.

"Yeah, they're more in that book." Niall said quietly, Josh looked at the other pages that lay on that book and his eyes widened at each drawing.

"Those are just my sketches; the real and last paintings are on canvas." Niall said and looked down at his hands. Zayn looked at his hands as well; they were tinted with splotches of paint and pencil and pen markings.

He looked away and glared at the floor.

* * *

_What if he hadn't saved him?_

_What if he were dead now? Why did he save him?_

_What would have happened to Safaa and Wahilya if he had died?_

_Did Niall really have thoughts like Zayn had?_

_Did he really mean he was not alone?_

_How did the rest live without any thought?_

A million questions ran through his head but he couldn't process anything, these thoughts and questions engulfed him. Confusion was all he felt.

His head pounded as more questions poured into him; he wanted them all to stop.

He wished he could live without any thoughts like the rest of the world did. Why did he live with all these thoughts? He wasn't anything special, why him?

"Are you alright?" A chill ran through his body as he heard his thick rouge Irish accent. He had whispered in his ear, his voice was calm and smooth. Just like before.

' _No! I am not alright! Why!? Why did you save me!? Why didn't you just let me die!?'_ he desperately wanted to ask him but he didn't instead he gulped and nodded his head causing his headache to get worse.

"Are you sure, you look a little pale." Zayn looked at him; his blue eyes were enough to send shivers down Zayn's back and cause the hair on his arms to stand.

It felt like he was looking into his soul. His hazel eyes were nothing compared to his deep blue ones.

Did he ever have thoughts like Zayn did?

Did he ever try to kill himself like Zayn had tried earlier?

"That's none of your business." Niall snapped at him, Zayn's eyes widened once he realized he had said his thoughts out loud.

"I-I…" He couldn't find words to help him out. Instead what helped him out were the silence that he created and the depth of the look in his hazel eyes.

"I've got to go." He said out loud, Zayn realized he wasn't talking to him more like the others in general.

Josh gave Niall his sketch pad back and smiled at him.

"You really are talented Niall." Louis told Niall truthfully.

"Thank you."

"Maybe we could all hang out some time; we could show you around Bradford." Liam suggested and the others agreed except for Zayn, he just sat there in silence.

"Yeah, I would like that." Niall said.

Liam had asked him for his number and he gave it to them. "I'll give you a ring when I need that tour." Niall said to them then turned to leave.

The silent and mysterious boy walked to the brightness and out from under the bridge that they all sat in.

Zayn hadn't got his answers.

Instead he was left with more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how was it? Good? Bad? Okay? Well please do me a favour and leave a comment telling me what you think and what you would like to read in the future chapters because I want to get all your attentions and I am willing to write whatever you want me to write! Anyways kudo and comment please! Xx  
> (One more question. Should I add like a side pairing? Lilo? Larry? Or Lirry? Or should I just stick with Ziall?)


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like to thank my awesome beta Jess who helped me out, a lot! So you should all thank her because without her this chapter would have been a jumbled up and would have looked like a five year old wrote it. Thank so much Jessica, you've helped me so much!  
> A FEW THINGS BEFORE YOU GO ON: PLEASE READ:  
> 1). I've changed Louis from the first chapters to be Josh.  
> 2). Louis is now a different character (Zayn's long time friend)  
> 3). Louis's parents own a gym, which he works at, he no longer works in the venue with the rest.  
> That's pretty much it, now go on and enjoy!

There was something about waking up to the feeling of a paintbrush and not a new bruise in his body that gave him some sort of security. Waking up with paint loitering the floor and marks of charcoal on his skin was more comfort than his mother ever was. And it killed Niall to feel that.

It killed him to know that his mother was not the person he would go to for advice or even for a hug if he had felt alone. The time he had spent in Mullingar a small town in Westmeath were the worst years of his life. From the new born ages to his teenage years, he grew up thinking that a real man showed no weakness, that a real man did not cry, the a real man can stand up for himself without someone else to help him. 

When Niall was just a young boy his mum would walk into his room and put him into bed and would always say, “You know Niall if you were stronger like your brother than those kids wouldn’t bother you!” She would whisper harshly causing the small blond to cringe.

And to those words he would respond, “I’m sorry mummy. I’m sorry I’m not stronger like Greg and Daddy are.” And he always meant what he said.

But now that Niall was no longer in Mullingar-not even in the County of Westmeath Ireland-so he could not say those words to his mother.

The slight ray of sunshine peeking through Niall’s shades made his bare chest feel warm; it would take some time for Niall to get used to living in England, especially with his older brothers.

Niall blinked a few times allowing his blue cerulean eyes to adjust to the harsh morning light. the room he was in was full of boxes that Niall had yet to unpack, what can he say? He’s an eighteen year old boy who didn’t feel like unpacking yet. He's a lazy eighteen year old boy, you can't blame him.

He willed himself out of the comforting bed on onto the cold hardwood floor, hehissed as his toes made contact with it, never fully getting used to the feeling.

As he grabbed a t-shirt and made his way out of the small room he could already hear his brother Greg singing in the shower. Though the boy could not hold a tune to save his life Niall still grinned at the familiar voice. It had been years since he last awoke to the sound of his brother, he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss him.

As he walked towards the kitchen he faintly remembered passing when he arrived here, he heard someone call out “Nialler! You’re awake!” Niall was suddenly wrapped in his brother’s strong arms a small smile tugged at the end of his lips.

Though Greg was half naked and wet from his shower Niall accepted the hug.

“Hey Greg.” He said **.** Niall had one older brother, Greg being the oldest out of the two, leaving Niall to be the ‘baby’ of the family.

Niall winced as Greg put pressure on his shoulder; he could still feel the nail markings his mother left printed on him just hours before he boarded on the plane to Bradford. 

“I’ve missed you bro,” Greg whispered in Niall’s ear, Niall couldn’t help but notice how Greg’s Irish accent was not as thick as he remembered it to be, four years in Bradford had changed Greg’s voice leaving it to sound like a mixture of Ireland and England.

It was a weird tone but Niall hadn’t cared, “I missed you too Greg.” There was a moment of silence between both brothers, a silence that was much needed for the intimate moment they were sharing.

It felt weird, the way Greg’s arms would wrap around Niall’s shoulder in a protective way and how Niall would put his head on the crook of Greg’s should. The feeling was so foreign to the blond boy that all he wanted to do was cry and tell Greg to never let him go.

With a single motion Greg pushed away slightly just enough so he could inspect the smaller boy. His eyes traveled up and down daring himself to catch any sort of bruise or cuts that his mum might have left.  The only bruise he could see was nail markings by his shoulder, nothing to major.

“You’ve grown so much Nialler! Look at you! No longer chubby with baby fat, you’re so skinny!” Greg mused he once again pulled the blond into a bone crushing hug.

“Will ya get off me now?! You’re soaking me!” Niall chuckled and pushed his older brother away.

Greg smirked evilly and shook his head like a dog shaking of the water from its fur, droplets of water fell onto Niall making him cringe and briskly back away.

“Get changed stinky!” And like that he made his way to the kitchen looking for something to fill the empty pit he called a stomach.

He had settled with eating a bowl of cereal, Greg seemed to have been oblivious to a place called Tesco. His refrigerator was empty except for some pints, milk, and of course the essential orange juice.

“You really need to start going grocery shopping; I’m not going to starve just because you are too lazy to buy food.” Niall said when Greg walked into the room fully dressed and his hair mildly wet now.

“Right, I forgot that you have a black pit for a stomach, Jesus Niall I thought you might have grown out of that.” Greg said and pulled the milk carton out of Niall’s hands.

“’M a growing boy Greg.” Greg rolled his eyes but chuckled at his brother.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“I’m gonna go out later, alright?” Niall asked and waited for his brother to nod his head.

“Okay, just text me if you need me.”

_

_

_

Zayn looked up and walked into the familiar building that once was more of a second home to him.

He never thought he would be here again, he never thought he would smell the familiar scent of old socks and sweat, not really a good scent, yet it gave comfort to the Bradford boy, he was soon hit with the memories of days and nights spent in the small rundown building.

“Zayn Malik. Never thought I’d see you here anytime soon.” Zayn’s head snapped to the side as a small smile formed on his lips but didn’t stay there for too long as he was attacked by a short guy.

“Hey Louis.” He said his voice coming out small and almost weak?Zayn hated being weak, but when it came to Louis it didn’t matter.

“How are the girls?” Louis asked his voice lower and only meant for Zayn’s ears, “They’re fine.” Zayn replied his tone low as well.

Louis knew about everything, seeming as both boys were childhood friends. Louis knew the old Zayn, the Zayn who would say yes to everything new and exciting, he knew the Zayn that didn’t worry as much about school as he did now. He knew the Zayn that was laid back and didn’t have any problems, he knew about the happy and joyous Zayn before the  _fire_.

It sometimes scared Zayn how much the older lad knew about him, the mood in the small gym seemed to tense a little both boys adverted their gazes to the floor or the men who were in the rink boxing.

“So what brings you here? I haven’t seen you since… two years ago?” It was more of a question than a statement, for it had been long since Zayn had stepped foot in the gym Louis’ parents owned.

“Yeah about that.” Louis added breaking the thin tension that had held up both men.

“Just thought I’d drop by, maybe even box a few rounds.” He said and cracked another smile to Louis who in return gave him a big smile.

“Well I guess we should suit you up!” Louis ushered him onto the locker room at the back of the gym, the walls were blue, paint chipping from years of not being painted over.

The wall full of lockers seemed smaller than Zayn remembered them to be, “I saved your locker.” Louis said as he noticed him putting his back onto another locker.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you always told me that you’d kill me if I let someone else use your locker.” Louis said and smirked at the ground remembering those times when both would sneak late at night into the gym and play around with the equipment.

Zayn made his way to the end of the lockers until he stopped at locker 60.  The front was covered with drawings that seemed to be fading even with the dark light Zayn could still make out his signature at the corner of the locker, his handwriting was sloppy and typically messy for an eleven-year-old boy.

“Remember when we snuck in here and drew on all of the lockers? “

“Yeah and your mum had caught us-we had to wash all the lockers- most work I had ever done in my whole life at the time.” Louis chuckled but agreed.

“Yeah, thought I was going to die after the third locker!”

“You were such a diva Lou!”

“Was not!”

“Oh please! You so were.”

“Shut up Malik!”

“Same to you Tomlinson.”

“Are you ready or what?”

“I’m coming! No need to get your knickers in a twist.”

“They’re untwisted my dear friend.”

**___ **

**___ **

**___**  

The music pounded through the speakers, dark lights casted shadows on the dimly lit dance floors, Niall felt comfort in the awfully warm club.

Men and women crowded the dance floor their bodies moving to sync with the beat of the song, girls hips swayed from side to side.

Their hands wrapped around a stranger’s neck, their hair sticking to their foreheads with beads of sweat rolling down their tanned bodies.

The room reeked of alcohol, sweat, perfume, and a little too much cologne. This atmosphere was much too familiar to Niall; there wasn’t much difference between the clubs in Dublin and the ones here in London.

Though it took more time to get to London on the tube then he thought it would, he hadn’t cared though, in fact, he enjoyed the wait.

It gave him time to think, to remember-  _he hated to remember_.

Niall pushed through the crowds as his body screamed for alcohol to be consumed and for his thoughts to spiral and make no sense.

He loved what alcohol did to him, “ _‘Xcuse_  me.” He said and shoved a short and lanky old man out of his way; he walked eagerly to an empty stool in front of the bar.

He quickly ordered something only to have it passed to him just seconds later.

“Time for some fun.” He mumbled before downing the drink.

**___ **

**___ **

**___ **

His fists made contact with the leather bound punching bag, he winced at the pain but soon forgot it by throwing another his feelings were going wild at the moment but he didn’t care.

The gauze wrapped around his fists seemed tin compared to the leather bag **,** he ripped through it causing the boy to wince in pain but ignore the warm sensation of his blood dripping down his hands.

All the noises that came from the small gym soon disappeared, the lights that casted shadows off onto the floor was soon gone and all that stayed was the punching bag and Zayn.

His fist made contact with the punching bag; his emotions seemed to be flying all over the place, tears welling up in his hazel eyes. Not only for the pain shooting through his arm but also of years he held in emotions, feelings that finally came tumbling out. And if he were honest,in that moment,he hadn’t cared he was crying in front of his best mate, he hadn’t cared that his knuckles would be bruised in the morning, because in that moment he was just Zayn Malik, not Zayn who works two jobs to put food on his sisters plates, not Zayn who was starting Uni in just a few days.

Not the Zayn he became after the fire, he was just Zayn, eighteen-year-old Zayn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of things are going on in my life at the moment which is no longer allowing me to have time to update quick, so please understand that I won't update this so much. I will be writing chapters on my free time but I'll probably have them up later than usual.  
> I've been stressing myself to much and I can't deal with it, I hope you all understand and will patiently wait for future chapters.  
> Thank you so much for your wonderful comment and for giving this so many kudos and hits, you don't know how much that means to me.  
> Good night and I wish the best for you all. :) xxxx

**Author's Note:**

> i'll try to update everyday. Xx


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